


The marks humans leave are too often scars

by pawnofkings



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Scar Worship, Scars, They love each other, soft, they rlly do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pawnofkings/pseuds/pawnofkings
Summary: On a slow, early morning at the house in Columbia, Neil tells Andrew the story of one of his scars and Andrew shows his appreciation.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 9
Kudos: 207





	The marks humans leave are too often scars

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow, I haven't posted since October. I think uni took the passion and energy out of me, unfortunately. I'm back now, though, and boy do I have plans! If you're a big fan of British (or just British accent) Neil, the Twinyards healing together and Aaron coming around to Andreil, some good old Neil whump, and Robin Cross in general, feel free to keep tabs on this account! Hopefully, I can start churning those sorts of fics out momentarily. Besides, I have plenty of not-yet-posted material hogging space on my Drive...
> 
> Title quote by John Green!

“Good morning,” Andrew says the second Neil opens his eyes.

Neil yawns, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. He blinks to clear his vision, until the blond man in front of him isn’t blurry anymore. “Since when is that a thing you say?” he questions.

Andrew stares at him with a long-suffering gaze. “See if I ever do it again.”

Neil smiles. “No, I like it.” He rolls onto his back, seeing a white ceiling rather than the underside of the top bunk - that’s right, they’re in Columbia. That explains why the mattress is so firm. And why he’s shirtless, he thinks, raising a hand to trace the outline of his biggest scar; the one he got from jumping out of a moving car. The tissue is uncomfortably smooth against his fingertips; more uncomfortable is the fact that, if he touches the tissue lightly enough, he can’t feel it at all. He scrunches his nose.

“What’s going through that mind of yours?” Andrew asks, pushing himself up. Neil looks up at him and shrugs.

“Feels weird”, he admits.

“Probably does.” Andrew follows the movements of his fingers for a few seconds before he asks. “Can I?”

“Touch it? Sure.” Andrew’s touched his scars before - twice before they even started to like each other.  _ These ouches feel a little rough for a child on the run.  _ Before, he did so searchingly, analytically; mapping Neil out, trying to figure out the truth behind the marks. Nowadays, he touches them more affectionately, oftentimes to soothe; sometimes, they start to pull on his skin, hard and tense, and Andrew will help him rub them until they stop hurting. 

Now, Andrew presses two fingertips to the scar on his side. “You never told me how you got this one.”

Neil shifts to make himself more comfortable on the pillows. “Would you like to know?”

“If you’d like to tell me.”

Neil can’t think of a reason not to, and being transparent and honest with Andrew is a bit like a drug (the ingrained anxiety of having let too much information slip, and the relief when he remembers that he’s allowed to, are sort of addictive in combination), so he tells him. “I was fifteen and some of my father’s men caught up to us. They got me straight out of school and put me in the back seat of a car, but only put one guy next to me. Mom always made me carry knives so I managed to… incapacitate him, and wrench the door open. Wasn’t really anywhere else to go.”

Andrew raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think he died,” Neil clarifies.

“Wouldn’t be much of a loss.” Andrew presses down more on the scar, so that Neil can really feel that he’s there, and trails it all the way down to his navel. “Did it hurt.”

“A lot, but more of a sting?” Neil shrugs. His shoulders drag against the bunched-up sheets. “It’s not the most painful one, I think.”

“Which one is?” 

“That,” Neil says, “is a great question. I don’t know. Uhh…” Andrew watches him carefully while trailing his fingers across his chest, down the slight ridge between two ribs and over several slash marks. “Honestly, breaking bones is the most painful, especially since we didn’t have anything strong against the pain. I have some scars where the bone poked out. Setting those hurt like a bitch.”

Andrew lets out an incredulous, quiet laugh. There’s something dark in his eyes, though. “I’ve never broken a bone before.”

“Really?” Neil asks, shocked. He supposes his idea of ‘normal’ doesn’t align with most people’s. “I think I’ve broken most of mine.”

Andrew nods, gaze averted. He presses his fingertip against the bullet scar, and the scar tissue there is so thick that Neil can’t feel it at all. “I hate that.” 

It takes Neil several seconds to figure out what he’s talking about, but then he softens. “Well, good news is I might never break another one again.” It’s a strange thought for someone who used to view pain as an inevitable aspect of life. It’s not an expectation he’s ever been able to have before.

Andrew shakes his head. “You’ll start a third world war by the time you’re forty with how conflict-prone you are. And I’ll have to be there and pick up the pieces, like always.”

It seems that Andrew’s mouth has betrayed him, because he immediately stills just as the implication hits Neil, too.  _ Always. Always, always, always. I’ll have to be there. Be there.  _ “Sounds good to me. But I daresay that’s a hefty accusation,” he says, hoping Andrew doesn’t retreat behind those walls of his, that he’ll just latch onto the topic change and they can pretend it didn’t happen, if that’s what he wants. (Neil’s heart is going to break his ribs with how hard it’s beating, and his fingers and toes feel all tingly. All he really wants to do is curl up like a cat and bask in the warmth like it’s a beam of sunlight.  _ By the time you’re forty. I’ll have to be there. Like always.) _

“Your dumb ass already started a mob war,” Andrew snipes, digging his finger into the bullet scar. Neil, again, doesn’t feel much of anything. “I expect no less of you.”

“That was averted,” Neil denies. “But yeah, I suppose it was a close call.” 

Seemingly appeased by the concession, Andrew bends down and presses a kiss to his jaw. Neil turns his head to kiss him, but Andrew dodges it, trailing his lips down Neil’s throat, the hollow between his collarbones. “Can I?” he murmurs, pressing his mouth to a spot just above the looping scar curving over his collarbone. Neil knows what he means, so he nods and closes his eyes as lips brush over it.

He continues down Neil’s chest, pausing to give special attention to the worst of the marks. Neil can feel Andrew’s eyes on him, constantly checking in, because sometimes this is too much, sometimes it’s a no - sometimes it’s a yes that becomes a no. Neil’s ‘always yes’ does still ring true but only for kissing, not kissing scars, Neil’s come to figure out, and it’s not scary because Andrew has never - and will never - push those boundaries. Today, he’s comfortable, enjoying the affection, enjoying Andrew’s way of communicating when words feel too big to pass through either of their throats.

Andrew brings his hand up and kisses the knuckles, and puts it back on the mattress when he tenses (sometimes they’re too recent, those memories too close to the surface, Lola’s voice ringing through his ears whenever he remembers they’re there) but he’s quickly distracted by hands wrapping around his ribs,  _ grounding.  _ “Kiss me?” Neil asks, and Andrew does. “I’m okay”, he says, when Andrew pulls back to look into his eyes. Since Neil barely ever lies to him about that anymore - and wouldn’t at all in an intimate context - Andrew believes him. “I like it here,” Neil tells him, brushing a hand over his own collarbones and chest, “most of all.”

Andrew presses his lips to Neil’s one more time before moving lower.

**Author's Note:**

> I read every comment I get and they always put a smile on my face, so if there's any particular part that stands out to you in this short fic I'd love to hear it!


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